Christmas in London
by pisces317
Summary: Harry runs into the Doctor on Christmas Eve. Adventure ensues as the gang from Hogwarts and the Doctor solve the mystery of muggle attacks all over the city. Is someone trying to become the new Dark Lord or is it someone less sinister? Doctor Whump. On Indefinite Hiatus!
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Harry runs into the Doctor on Christmas Day in London and adventure ensues. Doctor Whump**  
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**Author's Note: **Set after the 7th book and I'm going by JK's descriptions of Harry (mainly his eye color) more so than the movie. Please review and tell me what you think! I'm not sure I kept it everyone IC but I did try.

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><p>Harry walked through central London not really seeing where he was going as he stumbled to a solitary corner near The Leaky Cauldron where four men in Santa costumes were blowing their horns in the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen".<p>

It was his first Christmas that he didn't have to worry about being killed while out in the open and if Harry was truthful it was a weird experience. He kept looking around corners and turning to check behind him almost expecting to see a Death Eater waiting to kill him but alas every time he looked, there was no one but Muggles.

As he stopped to look into a shop window Harry's mind wandered to his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. They were now an established couple, much to the relief of almost everyone that knew them, and were currently taking a much needed vacation around Europe.

They'd started in France per Hermione's request and had decided to end in Rome around the holidays. Unfortunately Ron had managed to talk Hermione into visiting his brother Charlie in Romania instead of visiting Rome promising that they'd get there eventually.

According to the latest letter he'd received from the pair they'd managed to stay relatively free wherever they went, having chosen to stay with family instead of in hotels, and were planning on joining him in Diagon Alley today. For the most part the three friends had always spent their Christmases together and it was a tradition they weren't about to break in a hurry.

He walked on, his mind blankly registering a crowd of carolers before he passed a big, wooden, blue police box seemingly safely tucked out of the way. While they hadn't been in use during his time Harry did know that they had at one point existed and been useful but what was one doing in the heart of London and more importantly so close to the magical pub?

The door to the box opened and a head full of spiky, dark cinnamon hair adorned with thick, black, Buddy Holly glasses and deep, friendly brown eyes poked out with a wide grin upon its face.

"Hello," the man greeted cheerily, "listen I'm sorry to bother you but could you tell me what day it is?"

Harry stood glued to the spot, staring at the thin man before him like he was completely bonkers. A small part of him registered that thin though the man may be he was fairly attractive – a quality that his friendly personality and his well tailored, blue and brown pinstriped suit only added to.

"It's Christmas Eve," Harry answered blankly his mind still confused about how this strange man didn't know.

"Right and what year?" the man asked tugging briefly on his earlobe before scratching his neck in what Harry assumed to be nerves.

"2008."

"Right, right, great year though the summer had been a bit of a drag. Did anything happen on Christmas that year?" The man screwed up his eyes momentarily in concentration before he refocused on Harry. "Oh right the Titanic but then my other self would take care of that unless I'm not there to take care of it and then why would all these people be out?" He looked around, his face a mask of confusion and study. "Of course! Alternate universe. Brilliant! Well," he amended, dragging out the word as if forming a thought, "not really brilliant since the last time I was in one my friends and I were almost turned into Cybermen but then when aren't they attacking some reality or another eh?"

Harry stood listening to the man talk, his face carefully blank but his mind screaming at him to quietly back away from the insane man. For some reason however his body didn't want to respond to its brain's demand and he remained where he was.

"Who are you?" he finally managed to ask though he was sure there were better questions out there that he could have said.

"Right, sorry. This version of me is really quite rude, I must work on that one of these days or people are going to think I was raised in a _freta. _I'm the Doctor."

The rather chatty man held out his hand and reluctantly Harry grabbed it, giving a firm shake that the thin gentlemen returned, though not in a threatening manner, and even added another broad grin to it.

"Harry," he answered realizing that it would rude not to give his own name. The man's soft brown eyes widened so marginally that for a moment the wizard thought he'd imagined it. _Does he know who I am? _he wondered briefly before dismissing it entirely. _Come off it! How arrogant are you if you think that everyone knows who you are? _

The man known as the Doctor smiled even wider, an act that Harry didn't think possible given how broad the man's smile already was, but before he could comment any further his honey brown eyes focused on the men in Santa costumes nearby.

Harry had a moment's chance to notice two things before the Doctor had pulled him down, behind the closest street stand. The first was that the Santa men had stopped playing and the second was a focused, hard look in the strange man's eyes as he focused on the brass band.

Fire erupted where they had stood only seconds before, burning all in its vicinity and melting the snow that had covered the ground. If it hadn't been for the quick reflexes of the Doctor, Harry would have been scorched and barbecued by now. As it was the sleeve of his shirt had been burnt away leaving an angry looking scorch mark in its wake.

Having had worse than this in his 19 years of life Harry didn't pay much attention to it, his focus solely on the crazed Santa men instead. An almost high pitched whining reached his ears and Harry looked over to find the Doctor holding a long, cylindrical object in the air as if he were trying to use it to find the wind.

"Where is it? Where is it?" he asked no one in particular over and over again and twirling and spinning his torso around like he was a robot and not a man with a spine. He gave a triumphant "Aha," alerting the killer Santas to their wehereabouts causing them to duck as another wave of fire headed their way.

Harry managed to duck in time but a pained hiss and the faint smell of burnt flesh wafting from next to him told him that the Doctor had not. There was no time to dwell on the injury however as the Doctor grabbed his hand and pulled him, running away from their safety in time to see it burst into flames entirely as another wave of fire was sent their way.

The Doctor roughly shoved Harry into the Leaky Cauldron then stumbled in afterwards. He waited, regaining his breath again before he opened the door again and stepped out holding the cylindrical object as if it was a weapon.

Unable to resist his curiosity Harry followed behind the Doctor, quietly walking to the door with his hand resting just over where his wand sat stored in his pocket away from unnecessary eyes.

His curiosity turned to wary interest as he watched the man point the object at one of the Santas then buzz it, holding it determinedly, and almost threateningly, in front of himself until the Santa's head exploded in a fabulous show of sparks and machinery. He re-aimed but the remaining Santa men disappeared in a flourish of smoke and particles.

"What-what did you do?" Harry asked baffled as he walked out of the pub.

"I found their communication frequency, piggy-backed onto it then overloaded it," the Doctor replied evenly as if he did this often. He turned around to face Harry, his expression a mixture of focused determination and aloof examination. "If I could just trace their signal I could figure out who was controlling them."

"Controlling them? You mean they weren't acting of their own accord?" Harry watched, growing ever more uneasy, as the man pointed the cylindrical object into the air and began whirring it, waving it around as if it were a metal wand.

"Of course not," he replied absently, his eyes focused on the miniature digital output on the side of his tool. "Those robots were controlled by someone." He stayed quiet for a few minutes before his left eyebrow shot up in an expression of great disbelief. "Someone who doesn't want to be found apparently," he mumbled almost to himself. Shrugging he put the object back into his pocket and refocused on Harry, "Well that's alright. It just makes it more of a challenge for me then doesn't it? Do you mind if we go inside and get a cup of tea?"

Without waiting for a reply the Doctor walked into the Leaky Cauldron and sat down at the bar waiting for someone to come get his order. Now that he wasn't being chased by crazed robots Harry's brain had time to become confused as to how the stranger knew the Leaky Cauldron was there. The building didn't show itself to anyone without magical blood and this man didn't seem to be a Wizard, not one that he knew of at least, so how had he known it was there?

Harry followed in the man's trail, sitting on a stool beside him, his mind blurting out so many questions while his mouth refused to open.

"Harry, so good to see you," Tom, the toothless bar owner, greeted happily. "What can I get for you?" He looked next to Harry as if seeing the man beside him for the first time then looked back and asked, "Who's your friend?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor answered before Harry had had a chance. He waved as a way of saying hello but didn't offer his hand to shake which was the normal muggle greeting. "Could I have a cup of tea please? Wait, scratch that. I need to visit a bank first, though not that that will do me any good since I haven't got any money."

Harry watched the man fiddle with a black leather case in his pocket, think better of what he was about to do with it and withdraw his hand. "Two teas please Tom," he ordered placing a galleon on top of the bar.

Two mugs of steaming hot tea filled with milk and sugar appeared as if out of thin air in front of the two men and Tom came back with the correct change. He watched them drink from their cups for a moment before he turned around and went to clean up after a group of wizards that had just left.

"So, I'm sorry but who are you?" Harry asked at last figuring that was the simplest question to start off with.

"I told you, I'm the Doctor," the man answered then took another sip of his tea, a content smile crossing his face.

"A doctor of what exactly?"

"No not A doctor, The Doctor. It's all a little hard to explain although less hard to you, you being a wizard and all you're probably used to strange things and even stranger people. Suffice it to say I'm here to help; with what I'm not exactly sure yet." He pulled out his tool and began studying it again. "Do you know if there's a spell that can hide a technological signal?"

"I suppose, maybe. I'm not exactly the one who knows about all the spells; that would be Hermione." He let out an involuntary wince as he reached for the change and deposited it in his pocket. The skin on his arm that had been burned had become tight and didn't appreciate stretching.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked having caught the wince.

"Fine, just a small burn," Harry answered lightly in a hope that no more attention would be paid to him. Unfortunately the Doctor wasn't that easily distracted.

"Can I see it?" he asked in such a gentle tone that Harry found it hard to resist. He held out his arm, presenting it for the man who called himself the Doctor to examine.

The Doctor gently peeled back the singed cloth then turned the arm to get a better view in better light. He held that position for awhile before releasing his hold. "It's not a bad burn but it would help to put some cream on that. I have some in the TARDIS if you like, unless you lot have something better."

"I dunno," Harry answered the implied question realizing that he truly didn't know if wizards had something better for burns. He was sure they did but he'd never really paid attention when Madame Pompfrey had treated him; it wasn't his fault really since most of the times he'd been brought in he'd been unconscious.

"Well come on then," the Doctor replied cheerily, finishing his tea in one massive gulp before standing up and heading towards the door. He turned around when he realized that Harry wasn't following. "Are you coming or not?"

Strange though it may be Harry found himself almost willingly following the man. It was as if he'd been put under an imperius curse though he was moving of his own free will. Something about this stranger was compelling him to follow and if there was one thing Harry liked, it was a secret being unveiled.

They walked silently in the direction of the shops, stopping at the same blue box where Harry had first met the Doctor. The walk hadn't been long but it had been long enough for the young wizard to notice that the lean man beside him was limping a little and giving small winces every time he put weight on his right leg.

He was just about to ask if the man was alright when said man burst out happily, "There you are old girl!" He patted the box with affection that bordered on love then slipped a silver, blank key into the hole. Unlocking the door, the Doctor turned around with an excited smile on his face, "Harry welcome to the TARDIS."

The door opened revealing a massive control room with a long, cylindrical tube, which was filled with two or three smaller tubes that moved in opposite directions so they met in the middle, in the middle of what Harry could only assume was a control console.

A strange blue-green light radiated from the console mixing effortlessly with the yellow and orange tones of the tall, round walls. The flooring was made of grates that made a _clunk_-ing sound with every step he made and an almost inviting hum filled the room, wrapping him up a blanket of welcome.

"What is this?" he asked, his green eyes trying to take all the magnificence in.

"It's called the TARDIS. It stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space." The Doctor limped over to the control panel, tossing his long brown coat carelessly over the nearest rail as he did so, and began flipping switches. "Where is your friend Hermione? I need to talk with her."

"Uh she's in Romania with our friend Ron, visiting his brother," Harry replied more than a little baffled. "Hang on, is this a space ship?"

"Yep," the Doctor answered popping the 'p'. He flipped a few more switches, rang a bell, twisted a crank, and pulled a lever all within a matter of seconds, something that shouldn't be possible for a man that small in a ship this big, before Harry had a chance to even begin to process that he was in a spaceship.

Wheezing filled the air and the green-blue light glowed brightly, canceling out the yellow-orange glow from the walls as it completely enveloped the room. Harry was thrown to the ground as the ship shuddered violently then stopped completely and when he looked around he saw that the Doctor had been tossed around as well though he bounded up almost immediately, checking what looked to be a cross between a computer monitor and a small, flat screen TV, before flying to the door.

He stopped by Harry, offered him a hand up then bounded straight to the door. How a man with an obvious limp could move that fast, Harry had no idea.

However just before the Doctor reached the door he stopped suddenly as if playing Simon Says and froze as part of the game. He turned around, all but ran down a corridor then reappeared not a minute later with a jar of what Harry assumed to be burn cream and a bandage.

"Sorry but I think this shirt is ruined already, don't you?" he asked before ripping the sleeve of his shirt so there was a clean split from the end of the sleeve to just below his elbow, exposing his burnt forearm.

With soft hands, the Doctor liberally applied the cream, which felt cool against the burnt, agitated skin, then gently wrapped the gauze bandage around the arm a couple of times before taping it together. He disappeared just as quickly as he did before but returned with clean hands and no sign that he'd done anything but gone for a quick stroll.

The Doctor checked the screen then smiled. "I think you should exit first Harry. Your friends seem curious as to why there's a big blue box inside their room and I don't think they'd believe me."

Harry exited quickly, more than happy to escape the strange man's presence for a moment. He opened the door and almost ran into Ron who was just about to try entering the box.

"How the ruddy hell did you get in there?" he asked baffled as he stepped slowly away from the box.

"It's a long story," Harry summarized shortly.

Hermione stepped forward, embracing him with a tight hug before she stepped back and frowned. "Are you alright?" she asked while brushing the hair off his forehead and attempting to get some soot off his cheek.

"I'm fine," he answered with a shrug.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you mate but what are you doing here?" Ron asked making his two friends smile fondly and shake their heads.

"That's my fault really," the Doctor answered deciding it was time he joined the group. "I met Harry in a street near the Leaky Cauldron and we ran into some trouble. Don't worry it wasn't Death Eaters," he added quickly seeing their brief looks of panic, "just remote controlled killer robots. I disarmed one of them but the rest got away and that's why I've come to see you." He pivoted slightly to focus his sole attention on a bewildered Hermione.

"Why me?" she asked warily as she looked him up and down in a manner that suggested she didn't trust him one bit.

"Because whoever's controlling the robots is hiding their signal from me magically and Harry says that you're the one to come to when it comes to spells and enchantments."

"Hang on," Ron interrupted before Hermione could reply, "who the bloody hell are you?"

"Not again. I tell you my manners in this reincarnation are just non-existent. I apologize. I'm the Doctor." He waved once again in greeting.

Before any of them had another chance to speak Ron's mother's voice rang loudly through the house, "Ron, Hermione! Supper's ready."

Ron physically winced, "How am I going to explain you to her? Harry she won't mind, she likes him but we don't even know him," he waved absently at the Doctor.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised in a hiss.

"It's alright. I'm not one for family gatherings and I wouldn't want to interrupt," the Doctor replied effortlessly waving of Ron's rudeness.

The sounds of someone coming up the stairs sounded outside the room and before any of them had a chance to say, "quidditch" Mrs. Weasley entered the room, "What are you two doing up here?" She stopped lecturing the minute she saw the Doctor and his blue box.

She stared at the group for a moment before her manners kicked in and she stepped forward, offering the Doctor and hand to shake. "Hello, I'm Molly Weasley."

"Hello, I'm the Doctor. I apologize for dropping in like this. I'm a friend of Harry's. I was giving him a ride and needed to ask Hermione a few questions while I was here."

Mrs. Weasley blinked as though he had just said something completely incomprehensible but managed a smile. "No problem at all Doctor, would you care to join us for dinner? I'm sure we have enough."

"No thank you, I really should be going. Hermione, I'll come back when you're finished if that's alright with you?"

Hermione nodded dazedly still confused as to why the strange man needed to speak with her specifically but Mrs. Weasley, ever the mother hen, was not having any of it. "Nonsense, come and eat with us. You look skinnier than Harry did when we first met him and that's saying something. As for you three, go sit at the table. Ron set an extra place for Harry and the Doctor and Harry go wash up, you look filthy."

She waited sternly as Ron and Harry did as they were told then stepped beside the Doctor, silently herding him downstairs with the rest.

The Doctor grimaced with every other step he made but he slowly made his way down the stairs. Pain seared through his right leg and an uncomfortable tugging could be felt around the burnt skin whenever he flexed the muscle.

He hadn't been fortunate enough to get out of the way of the second to last burst of flames from the robots and the first few layers of skin on his right calf had paid the price. For the most part he'd been able to ignore the pain but the more he moved the harder it became.

Arthur, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny Weasley sat at the table along with Hermione and Harry. There were two places without people. One was for Mrs. Weasley and the other was for the Doctor.

"Who's this then?" Ginny asked. She'd been spending a lot of time with George and in doing so had almost completely lost her manners.

"This is the Doctor. He's a friend," Harry spoke up figuring the man was probably getting tired of answering that question. Concern colored his green eyes when he stole a quick look at his strange companion and found that his exuberant energy had disappeared leaving a tired but determined energy behind and the limp which had begun as barely noticeable had become far more pronounced.

"I thought we knew all your friends Harry," Charlie intoned jokingly.

"It's a recent friendship," the Doctor answered absently. "Hello."

"Are you a muggle?" Mr. Weasley asked hopefully.

"Yes, in the strictest sense of the word but not entirely no."

"Is there a rule where once you hit a certain age you talk in riddles?" Ron asked before shoving a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

"How old do you think I am?" the Doctor asked sounding offended.

"Dunno, forty maybe?"

"Forty? Blimey I've gotten old!"

"Ron if you think he's forty I hate to hear how old you think I am and why I don't speak in riddles," Mr. Weasley replied with a laugh.

"Well to be fair he does have a point. I do talk in riddles at times like Professor Dumbledore did and we are both quite old though I will say I'm older than he was but no there is not a rule about talking in riddles."

"How can you be older than Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked gently, taking a sip of water.

"I hide my age well."

"How old are you then?" Ron asked between mouthfuls.

"906, give or take a year." The Doctor took a bite of eggs in order to give an excuse not to answer the coming bombardment of questions.

"You're barking," Ron answered filling the shocked silence with his disbelieving voice.

"Like I said, I'm a muggle in the strictest sense of the word, which is to say that I do not possess the ability to use magic, but I am not actually a muggle." He paused for a moment before looking at Mrs. Weasley. "These are fantastic," he complimented pointing at the eggs with his fork, "Do you know that in Albuquerque, New Mexico they actually put these, some potatoes, some bacon, and a spicy vegetable called green chile in a form of flat bread they call a tortilla and call it a breakfast burrito?"

"Do they really? Fascinating these muggles!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as he finished off his plate.

However Ron was not to be deterred, "How can you be a muggle and not a muggle at the same time. Either you can use magic or you can't."

"Ron, just leave it," Harry said, cutting off the Doctor before he had a chance to speak. Though he'd said these words many times before to his friend, they had never been said in so much a commanding tone as he'd just used and he could tell that Ron wasn't liking it at all. However he could tell that the Doctor was nearing the end of his patience and growing more tired by the second and wasn't going to let the redhead keep questioning the man until he snapped.

"Do you want any more?" Mrs. Weasley offered, eyeing the Doctor with concern. If it were up to her, the entire population would have meat on their bones.

"No thank you Mrs. Weasley I really should be going."

"Are you sure? You're more than welcome to stay the night."

Ron threw a look at his mother that clearly said he thought she was crazy but remained quiet.

The Doctor looked like he was about to argue when he closed his mouth, smiled then replied, "Thank you I think I shall but I'll be staying in the TARDIS. There's plenty of room and I wouldn't want to crowd you all."

"Come on, I'll show you back to the room," Harry said swiftly getting out of his chair. He waited until the Doctor had almost gingerly eased out of the chair and began walking.

Hermione and Ron followed out of habit more than anything else. When all three of them were together they had a habit of all leaving when one left.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked when they reached the bedroom and the Doctor faltered in his step.

"Burnt my leg during the attack but I'll be fine after a few hours' rest." He sat down in a battered chair that sat just inside the door. "Sorry. I didn't think it would so tiring to get up the stairs. I'll be out of your hair in a moment, don't worry."

"I thought you were staying," Harry said as Hermione knelt before the Doctor and gently examined his leg.

"Oh I am but I doubt your friends want me to stay in their room." He hissed as Hermione touched a particularly tender spot.

"Sorry," she apologized with a wince. "This looks pretty bad. You should have had someone take a look at it sooner. I think the damaged skin is infected."

"I'll be-OW," he cried out as her fingers touched one of the more burn and infected spots causing her to withdraw like she herself had been burnt. He resisted the urge to curl around the injury (it was a ridiculous human reaction to pain!) and remained quiet as he waited for the searing agony to calm enough where he could talk again. "I'll be fine by tomorrow. Well fine enough at least."

"Everything alright up there?" Mrs. Weasley called from the landing on the stairs.

Ron looked from Hermione to Harry to the Doctor, not sure how to answer.

"Just fine thanks!" the Doctor answered for him. He turned back to the three wizards, giving them a pained smile, "Well. Good night then. I'll see you lot in the morning."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Hermione asked eyeing his leg.

He gave the group an absent yet mischievous smile, "I'm always alright." He turned around to enter the TARDIS when he pivoted painfully around to look at Harry, "You're welcome to a room in here if you like. The TARDIS will show you the way to your room when you feel like sleeping."

"Thanks," Harry replied finally realizing that he hadn't actually decided where he was sleeping for the night.

The three friends watched as the Doctor limped rather heavily into the TARDIS and disappeared within the massive ship. Ron and Hermione turned around and gave Harry expectant looks. They settled down on the floor and waited for Harry to begin the story.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry walked into the TARDIS several hours later. He'd related what had happened from the moment he'd met the Doctor to the moment they'd arrived. Hermione and Ron had listened attentively, carefully holding their questions until after the tale had arrived.

Hermione was the one with most of the questions, the first one being who exactly is the Doctor. Unfortunately that was one of many questions that Harry couldn't answer. Ron knew that his questions had been the same, more or less, as Hermione's so he'd gladly let her take control.

In return the pair and told him of their travels, relating tales of the adventures, or lack there of, throughout most of Europe.

It was well past midnight by the time the group had broken up deciding it would be best to go to sleep now since Mrs. Weasley was sure to wake them up early for chores or something the like.

He expected to find the TARDIS deserted so when he walked in to find the Doctor lying under the console tinkering away he had been very surprised and had almost jumped in shock.

The Doctor had changed out of the pinstriped suit and into a set of faded, blue striped pajamas. The right pant leg of his pajamas was slightly scrunched revealing a white bandage, which closely resembled a long strip of cloth, covering practically the entire length of the man's lower leg.

Hermione must not have been kidding when she'd said that the burn was really bad. He didn't think that the Doctor was the kind of person to over bandage just for the heck of it leading him to surmise that it had been necessary.

Spiked hair poked out from under the console. "Ah, Harry, how'd it go?"

"Well I'm fairly sure they think I'm a nutter but otherwise pretty good." Harry walked further into the ship, sitting himself down on the bucket seats next to where the Doctor was working. He watched the man work under his machine for a few minutes before asking, "How's your leg?"

"Oh it's fine," the Doctor answered, waving off the concern in Harry's voice like he was swatting a fly. The wince that covered his face as he moved the leg betrayed his casual tone however and Harry wondered why the man couldn't just admit that he was in pain.

_Would you if you had something important to do? Did you? _Harry's mind reminded quietly.

The Doctor slid out from under the console and painfully eased off the grating floor. The first couple of steps he made were painstakingly slow and for the most part he barely put weight on his right leg but the more he walked, the lighter his limp became, although not by much.

"Right then, time for bed; we've got a big day tomorrow. Good night Harry."

Before Harry could ask what tomorrow held, the Doctor had skittered off into the depths of the TARDIS leaving Harry to ponder what was coming until he decided it was time for him to sleep as well.

He walked down into the same hall as the Doctor and soon found himself winding through the empty halls ending finally at a blank, metal door. Hesitating only slightly, Harry pushed the door open and stepped in.

The room wasn't plentiful but it definitely wasn't sparse either. It was a good size at 12ftX12ft with a bathroom attached. On the wall to his left sat a queen size bed adorned with several pillows, two of which were adorned with plain white pillow cases while the others were decorated in a maroon satin with gold stitching. The bedspread matched the maroon pillows, the gold stitching outlining a square around the length and width of the fabric.

On opposite sides of the bed sat deep mahogany bedside tables. One had a small lamp and a candlestick. The other held a clock just in case the room's occupant wanted to know the time.

To the left of the bed sat a chest of drawers that easily matched the bedside tables and sleigh bed mahogany frame. Harry thought it a bit presumptuous to provide a chest of drawers but then again he supposed he, and more than likely Ron and Hermione as well, would be staying on this ship for more than a day or two.

Looking around he noticed that nothing adorned the walls of the room and wondered why there weren't any pictures. Even in the most Spartan of muggle homes there was always at least one picture hanging around; something to show that someone lived there but here he found nothing.

Harry stood for a few more minutes taking in the room some more before he stepped fully in and closed the door. Now that he thought about it, the room was quite proper. Maybe this was merely a guest room and all the pictures were in the Doctor's room?

A jaw cracking yawn broke through the silence, driving Harry to get ready for bed. He pulled back the coves on the well made bed, surprised to find that the silky looking bedspread was actually softer than he thought it would be and the sheets weren't scratchy like he'd expected but soft, almost like crawling into a flannel covered bed with feathers for a mattress.

Harry allowed his thoughts to wander to the man that served as his host. The man was certainly a chatty, friendly fellow but there was a sense of authority and danger that flowed off him that made Harry not only curious but wary as well.

He could tell neither Ron nor Hermione trusted the Doctor and, given how little they all knew about the man, Harry couldn't really blame them. The main reason why he trusted the odd man was because he had saved his life; the reason he followed the man was because he was an enigma that Harry hoped to solve before this adventure that they were beginning was done.

There was only a few minutes of wondering done before Harry drifted off to sleep, thinking of unwrapping the mystery that was The Doctor.

* * *

><p>The Doctor lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe that he'd actually met Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger! He supposed it had never been wholly out of the realm of possibility; his encounter with the Carrierknights had taught him that words were powerful enough to make thought into being but he didn't really count on ending up in the magical world of Harry Potter.<p>

But why was he here? Why had the TARDIS brought him here? Surely it wasn't just so he could meet Harry Potter was it? Given that the signal for the remote controlled robots was covered by magical means there wasn't an alien about making a mess.

Granted he did save Harry from a rather fiery and unpleasant death which would have messed with the future as over three million readers knew it to be but this was an alternate universe so there was no guarantee that that future would actually happen.

Pain spiked hot and fierce in his leg making him hiss and grimace. He thanked his Time Lord endorphins for allowing him to focus on things other than his badly burnt leg but now that he had nothing else better to do than listen to his body, the leg was screaming at him.

_Bloody robots and their fire, _he cursed to himself. Thankfully he'd managed to keep Harry from getting too badly injured, he supposed the wizard's arm would be fine by tomorrow, but he hadn't been so lucky with himself.

_**Do you need some pain medication? **_

The Doctor smiled. His ship always worried about him when he was hurting no mater if it was just a simple headache or a few broken bones. He didn't mind the mothering from the ship as much as he used to and he supposed that was why she did it.

When he'd first met Rose, he'd been along for so long that he hadn't been used to someone taking care of him and when the ship tried he brushed her off. But the more he traveled with a human companion the more he slowly allowed both his companion and his ship to help take care of him.

A concerned hum wafted over him bringing him out of his amused musings. The TARDIS wasn't very patient for a machine that could manipulate time and space and she wanted an answer soon.

_If you don't mind, thank you ol' girl. _Originally he was going to reject the offer but the pain in his leg was climbing and he knew he wouldn't get a whole lot of sleep, which he needed if he wanted to heal quickly, if he didn't get some relief.

Hissing filled the air as the TARDIS released the pain medication in the form of a gas. She couldn't materialize and physically inject him with the dose so this was the next best thing.

She waited until her pilot, her Time Lord, was close to falling asleep before she began humming comfortingly to both of her occupants. The ship didn't know the wizard who had been allowed to enter and stay but she'd seen into his mind, rather easily at that, and she saw the horror he'd been subject to and risen above while remaining humble as well.

The TARDIS knew this boy was a good man. Yes he had a lot to learn, he could learn a few things from her Time Lord himself, but he was a good man and that endeared him to her, though it was only a little.

She continued her humming, wanting to keep her occupants asleep, careful to keep them safe, at least for tonight.

* * *

><p>Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat on the floor of the bedroom in a triangle patiently waiting for the Doctor to emerge. Before them lay a spread of toast, butter, jam and some pumpkin juice; each item placed on separate plates with an additional four plates sitting in the middle. They'd told Mrs. Weasley that the Doctor wasn't feeling well this morning and wouldn't be able to make it down for breakfast so they were allowed to bring some up for him and eat it with him.<p>

It wasn't really a lie, more like a half truth. Though they hadn't actually seen the Doctor yet that morning Harry had been more than willing to wager that the man wouldn't want to try to walk down the stairs, given how badly he was hurting last night.

They were each nibbling on a piece of toast and jam when the door to the blue police box opened and the Doctor stepped through, a wide grin on his face.

"Good morning," he greeted too cheerfully for Ron's taste since he wasn't a morning person at all. "Ooo what have we got here? Toast, butter and, is that marmalade? I love marmalade. Do you know I can just eat it as it is? It is that good."

As the Doctor jabbered, Hermione fixed him a piece of toast. They all watched carefully as he came over, more than a little surprised to see that he wasn't limping nearly as heavily as he had been the night before.

"Thank you Hermione," the Doctor said, grabbing the piece of toast she held out for him then sitting down.

Hermione watched him eat for a few minutes before she hesitantly asked, "H-how's your leg?"

"It's better thank you. Still stings a bit but I suppose that's to be expected when there's severe burns covering most of your calf isn't it? That burn cream I have really is wonderful isn't it Harry? How's your arm? I imagine you could take off the bandage now."

Happy to have the uncomfortable tape and gauze off his arm, Harry willingly did as he was told. His green eyes widened in shock when he looked down where just yesterday an angry burn had been and found nothing but healed pale skin.

"The burn's gone," he said as he turned his arm over to look at it. He looked up at the Doctor who, not surprisingly, had a broad grin on his face, warming his eyes to pure honey.

"Does this mean that your leg's healed as well?" Hermione asked with awe in her voice, beating Harry to it.

"Not quite no but it will be by tomorrow." The Doctor brushed the crumbs off his blue and brown pinstriped suit then stood up, faltering slightly when he put too much weight on his right leg. "I actually need to go change out the bandage and apply more cream but I'll be right back then, Hermione I'd like to chat with you if that's alright."

"Of course," Hermione granted then added, "You know, I could heal you instead if you like."

The Doctor turned and gave her a wide, appreciative smile, "Thank you but no you can't. The elements involved with your magic wouldn't mix well with my biology; it would actually take me longer to heal."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion but the Doctor skittered out of the room and into the blue box before she had a chance to ask him her next question.

Harry got off the floor and followed, curiosity driving him. He entered the ship in time to see a blur of brown and blue swing down the hall to the left of the console and immediately headed down the same way.

"Do you need help?" he called out as he caught up with the limping man.

The Doctor spun turned around, staring at Harry like he was trying to decide then answered, "Yes actually, thank you. It is rather hard to bandage one's own leg isn't it? I had a heck of time the first time, I felt like a bloody contortionist."

Harry thought he heard curiosity under the tone of light hearted babble but for some reason the man didn't ask anything. He silently followed the Doctor through the winding halls of the TARDIS. When they finally stopped it was at a dead end about five minutes later in front of a metal door with rust growing across it like an ivy growing across a building.

"Use this room often?" Harry didn't know why but for some odd reason his question made the Doctor laugh.

"No actually, that's why it's at the very back of the TARDIS." The Doctor scrunched his face in a frown. "Come to think of it, that's probably not the best place for an infirmary is it?"

The door opened and probably the cleanest room in the entire ship came into view. It wasn't a very big room, big enough to fit one bed and something between a muggle operating room and a muggle MRI machine. The sterile smell of disinfectant assaulted Harry's nostrils and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

The Doctor limped into the room, grabbed another set of bandaging and the same jar of burn cream then made his way over to the solitary bed and sat down.

Harry saw relief flood through the angular features and wondered if the mysterious man was relieved to be able to get off his injured leg.

Harry slowly stumbled his way into the room towards the bed where the Doctor was patiently waiting for him, his right pant leg rolled up and giving him access to the injured limb. Now that the time's come, he felt a little awkward about what he was about to do.

If there's one thing Harry's never been, it was touchy feely. He wasn't in any way against touching another human being but it was usually someone he knew like Ron or Hermione not a complete stranger who was injured none the less.

"You can go back to your mates if you like. I'm sure I can manage on my own."

Harry's head snapped straight ahead, looking at the Doctor who offered a friendly, encouraging smile. Embarrassment flourished in Harry's chest and stomach as he looked into the pitying honey eyes. The Doctor had seen his awkwardness and was trying to give him a way out of his offer.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked as he walked straight to the Doctor's bed. He pulled up the extra chair close to the bed and began unwrapping the injured leg.

Angry, red and black skin burnt into the calf in a jagged, wide edge appeared. If this is what the burn looked like after the miracle cream, Harry didn't want to know what it looked like before.

Harry hesitated slightly before grabbing the cream and twisting the lid off. Guessing it was better to liberally apply the cream than to skimp he grabbed a copious amount and gently slathered it over the burn. He did his best not to put too much pressure on the damaged skin but even still he could tell the Doctor was clenching his teeth in order to remain silent.

Once he was finished with the cream Harry found a towel and quickly cleaned off his hands before he placed a thick, gauze bandage over the burn then wrapped the cloth-like bandage around, making sure to secure it firmly but not so firm that the blood flow to the Doctor's leg was reduced.

After having finished with the Doctor's leg, Harry gently swiveled the man's body and placed it on top of the bed, elevating it next to him. He tossed the used bandaging into the trash bin, put the used towel into what he assumed was the laundry then put the cream into the cupboard he saw the Doctor withdraw it from.

When he'd finished he turned around to see the Doctor unrolling his pant leg. "How's it feel?" he asked trying to sound casual.

"Better, thanks for your help," the Doctor answered as he gingerly eased himself off the bed. He winced when the foot of his injured leg touched the ground but soon began heading for the door with Harry following close behind.

The trip out of the TARDIS seemed to be a shorter trip than it was to get in and soon the two men found themselves once again in Ron and Hermione's room, its occupants still sitting on the now clean floor.

The Doctor sat stiffly down on the floor across from Ron and Harry sat down next to his host across from Hermione.

"Now then," the Doctor began, breaking the uncomfortable silence and turning his head to face Hermione. "Are there any spells that hide a technological signal?"

Hermione's manicured eyebrows drew together in concentration. "I suppose the standard disguising spell could work for hiding technology but I'm not sure any wizard has tried it since they don't tend to use electricity."

"Wonderful, do you happen to know the frequency that spell operates on?" The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and held it to his ear as he tried to adjust it to the right frequency.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked confused.

"Each spell has its own frequency, that's what helps to make them work," the Doctor explained, his attention only half on the three wizards in front of him. "Your wand helps channel the demand from your brain to the frequency, activating the spell."

Silence followed the man's explanation. No one knew exactly what to think of the way he'd explained the way spells work, they hadn't really thought about it. Their first year in charms was a bit busy and they didn't really pay attention during the class until they were allowed to perform magic.

The radio in the room buzzed to life and the announcer came on, "In other news, there has been another muggle attack. This is the fourth one since Monday. Ministry officials visited Cardiff but were not able to make any further progress."

"Aha, gotcha!" the Doctor cried out excitedly. He lowered the sonic screwdriver and tucked it safely in his breast pocket. "Right well, did they just say Cardiff?" When the young wizards nodded in response, the Doctor beamed. "Brilliant! I've been needing to visit dear old Jack."

"How the ruddy hell did you do that?" Ron asked in amazed suspicion.

"Do what? Oh, the radio. My sonic must have crossed its frequency while I was searching. Sorry about that." The Doctor stood up, wincing minutely when he placed weight on his right leg. "Well, thank you for the help. I must be off, got an old friend to visit and a wizard to catch."

"Shouldn't you let the Ministry of Magic catch the wizard?" Hermione asked.

"I would but I'm not sure the Ministry could catch this one since they don't have the proper tools to find him nor do they know that it's a wizard they're looking for. Who's the Minister of Magic these days?"

The three wizards looked at each other uncomfortably for a few minutes before Harry finally answered, "There isn't one. The Ministry is still trying to reorganize after Voldemort tore it apart and they haven't elected a new minister yet."

"Interesting," the Doctor commented with a far-off look in his eyes. He once again started walking towards the TARDIS but as suddenly as he began, he stopped, pivoted around and eyes the group with studying eye. "Would you lot care to join me?"

The three friends gave each other wondering, skeptical looks, each silently asking the other their opinion. Hermione gave Harry a small smirk and Ron gave a shrug. Harry allowed himself a glance around the room, letting his mind decide what it wanted to do, before returning his glance onto the Doctor. He let the mischievous sense of adventure he felt to shine brightly through his green eyes as he answered, "I've never been to Cardiff. Is it nice this time of year?"


End file.
